


other girls

by tesselations



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: (also the internalized homophobia and misogyny is NOT really explicit more implied), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Misogyny, Multi, Other, Slow Burn, Small Town Angst, actually a love letter to the complicated relationships between women, but i swear its actually a love story and has a happy ending i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:13:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tesselations/pseuds/tesselations
Summary: Abigail has a “I’m not like other girls” complex and Haley has a problem with it. She keeps her mouth shut, until she can’t.(also known as: that moment when everyone you went to high school with in a small town comes out in their twenties)
Relationships: Abigail/Haley (Stardew Valley), past Abigail/Sebastian/Sam
Comments: 29
Kudos: 104





	1. Chapter 1

It’s not that Haley doesn’t like Abigail, or even that she doesn’t know her. Abigail has been in Haley’s periphery for… well, forever. The valley is too small and close-knit for her to be anything else. And it’s not that she hasn’t had fun with Abby. They’ve hung out in big groups before, on holidays and at parties and even at Sam’s place once or twice for his birthday. She’s even kind of funny. It’s just that, despite how long they’ve known of each other, Haley doesn’t think she’s had a single one on one conversation with Abigail in her life.

Which means that when Abby elbows her when she’s squeezing in around the bar, and then rolls her eyes when she asks Emily to mix her something sweet that doesn’t taste like alcohol, all Haley can say is—

“What the hell is your problem?!”

Abigail looks startled, which is satisfying. But she just rolls her eyes again, and tips her beer stein towards her. “No problem here princess. Enjoy your mocktail,” she says, as she brings the round of drinks she’s carrying over to Sam and Sebastian. The sound of laughter echoes from the room a couple minutes after, and Haley is still fuming when Emily comes back from serving Pam another drink.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” she asks, pushing a piña colada towards her. Haley scowls.

“Abigail! What is her deal? I didn’t say anything to her and she’s out here getting in my face,” she snaps. Her drink is actually pretty good—if Emily actually put in any of the rum, she can’t taste it. Emily laughs.

“She’s probably just feeling threatened because you were talking to Sam earlier,” she says. Emily’s glowing tonight, wiping down glasses and calling out greetings to each patron as they come in. _How would she know,_ she thinks sourly. _Emily’s probably never felt threatened in her life._

She knows that’s not true even as she thinks it, but it’s hard to not be a little jealous of her older sister when everyone in the bar is trying to talk to her, and Haley’s in the corner being elbowed by one of the three people here she went to school with. This is not how she likes spending her Friday nights. All of a sudden she feels small and insecure. Shouldn’t she have more friends here? At least more than just her sister?

“Well maybe she should,” she says sourly, even though the idea of ever trying to seduce Sam is laughable at best, and oddly guilt inducing at worst.

“C’mon Haley, don’t mope. Abigail’s just got one of those complexes—you know, all “I’m not like other girls!” Emily says, miming out a display of disapproval in an attempt to get Haley to laugh. It works, and Haley’s not in a bad enough mood to try to fight it. “Anyway, there’s plenty of other people to talk to. The whole point of tonight was to hang out with some people you _didn’t_ go to high school with, remember?”

Haley nods reluctantly. She remembers. Usually on a Friday night like this she’d be watching movies with Alex, her head on his shoulder or legs draped over his, arguing over the popcorn flavor of the week and inconsistencies of the plot. _Comfortable_ , she thinks longingly. But tonight is the official one year anniversary of their breakup, and they both agreed that maybe they should honor it by not spending the day together for a change. At Emily’s behest, she came to the Stardrop, thinking maybe a change in routine is what she needed. She’s second guessing herself now.

“That was before I saw all the people I didn’t go to high school with,” she says doubtfully, scanning the crowd. She doesn’t think it’s her fault for not wanting to make small talk with Robin about her carpentry or listen to Elliot go on about his latest novel. Or, worst of all, have Emily pawn Clint off on her again. She wrinkles her nose. Emily rolls her eyes, and when the doorbell chimes and the new farmer walks in, she excitedly waves the woman over. The farmer wore a backpack here, bursting with stuff, which Haley thinks is really fucking weird. But she’s not complaining when the farmer pulls out a sunflower for her, and gives her a comically elaborate bow when presenting it. By the time Gus pulls Emily back to actually serving customers, Haley and the farmer are making tentative conversation.

 _Take that Abigail. Some girls can be nice to each other_ , she thinks. When she flicks her eyes to the open door to the back room, she makes brief and awkward eye contact with a pair of green, angry eyes. They both look away quickly but Haley can’t help but think about it for the rest of the night. Even when the farmer is walking her home (“It’s on my way,” she had said casually, and Haley can’t help but wonder why the farmer is walking into the woods at 11 pm on a Friday), a part of her mind is still thinking about Abigail, watching her from the pool table.

_

-

Even though Haley second guesses herself sometimes (usually in the middle of the night when she can’t sleep), she doesn’t actually regret breaking up with Alex. It was terrifying, of course. But after a couple awkward weeks of avoiding each other, things kind of just… stabilized. There were no more soft fumblings in the dark, of course, no more gentle kisses when they took their beachfront walks. But that had never been the center of their relationship anyway. For all of his bravado, Alex was weirdly shy about that kind of thing. He had wanted her, of course, but his restraint had always been impressive. He was lucky Haley wasn’t mean enough to tease him. But without the kissing and the sex, she still got to watch movies with her head on his shoulder and he didn’t look at her with kicked puppy eyes anymore. Haley was grateful.

Breaking up with him had felt almost as natural as getting together had been, which in retrospect, Haley thinks, she should have realized was a problem. Alex had been her date to every dance, her partner in every duet, her side kick in every game of pretend since she was six years old. By the time she was sixteen, everyone kind of assumed they were dating anyway. When Alex got in a fight with one of the seniors for spreading a rumor that Haley gave him a handjob behind the Stardrop, that pretty much sealed the deal. He asked her out two weeks later, awkward in a way she’d never seen him, and of course she had said yes. What else could she say?

-

-

The next day, Haley wakes up late. It’s almost noon, and she throws on a sundress and throws her hair into an “intentionally messy” bun in a rush. She has two packages arriving today, a camera lens and clothes for the summer. She refuses to go shopping in the valley. There’s no clothing retailers in Pelican Town, and there’s nothing in Grampleton worth the trek, and anything she needs in a pinch Emily can usually D.I.Y. for her. The arrival of a package is always a cause for celebration.

She opens the door. Sam is doing kickflips in the driveway of his house, and he waves at her enthusiastically when he sees her come outside.

“Hey Haley! Whatchya up to?” He shouts. She laughs and gently shakes the packages she has in her arms.

“What does it look like?” She asks. Abashed, he rubs the back of his neck and smiles that sunny, white toothed smile of his. He looks like a toothpaste ad, she thinks. She ought to ask him his secret.

What was supposed to be small talk turns into a fifteen minute conversation, and they are only interrupted when Jodi sticks her head out the window and yells at Sam that lunch is ready. When she sees Haley she blinks, but after a moment she smiles and adds, “There’ll be a sandwich for Haley too.” Sam looks a little apologetic, but shrugs and gestures to the house. Haley nods. She slept through breakfast, and she’s _starving_.

They end up watching TV and eating sandwiches while Vincent runs around the living room pretending to be a jet plane and a harried Jodi tries to convince him to finish his grilled cheese. It’s… nice. It’s been a while since she just spent an afternoon watching TV in Sam’s house, despite the fact that her mom used leave her and Emily with Jodi all the time when she was little. She missed it, she realizes. At some point, Emily was old enough to just keep an eye on Haley herself. And since Sam quit the football team Alex’s senior year, she had seen him even less. It was just _easier_ to let Sam do his own thing after school, to just not invite him over when Alex was there and bound to be pissed—and Alex was always there.

Besides, Sam had his own friends, and she’d heard enough of their band from next door to know they probably needed the practice time.

Still, she had missed this. Arguing over what show to watch was oddly reassuring. Sam had some conspiracy theory documentary series he wanted to check out, which Haley nixed, and he refused to watch the period drama she’d got into, so they compromised and put on a dry sitcom that neither of them really cared about. The quiet hum of dialogue and laugh tracks was even comfortable, until Sam, never able to keep his mouth shut for too long, asked out of the blue,

“Hey, I know it’s been a while, but.. why did you and Alex break up anyway? You guys still hang out all the time.” Haley blinked. She probably should have expected this bluntness, she thought ruefully. Boys. No tact.

“It just… wasn’t what we wanted any more. He’s still my best friend, obviously, but I think we’re better off that way,” she said, an an answer that reveals next to nothing. “Besides, we’re both too young and beautiful to settle down that fast,” She added, only half joking. Sam, who is not nearly as dumb as people think he is, nods like he knows more than she’s letting on.

It’s the truth, but it’s not the whole story. If you had asked her in high school, she would have firmly denied the possibility of her and Alex ever breaking up. But after they graduated, and Jason officially became her stepdad and not just her “mom’s long-term boyfriend of twelve years,” and swept her mother off for the long awaited trip around the world he had promised her…. Well, things changed. For the first time in her life, Haley and Emily were really, completely alone. Their mom and stepdad called all the time, of course, and Haley and Emily were used to being left to their own devices (or, more accurately, Haley left to Emily’s watchful eye). But things changed.

“You’re a grown up now Haley-bear,” her mom had said, guilty but flushed with excitement when Jason had presented her the plane tickets on one knee. “You think you’ll be ok?” And Haley had realized that despite the fact that her mom had been dating Jason for twelve years, and that Haley basically considered Jason her dad (not in front of Emily, of course), and that Jason was a boring white collar finance guy with a receding hairline…. Despite all that, her mom was still _excited_. Giddy and giggling and nervous to spend the next few years traveling the world with this man she had married, no matter how long she’d known him.

Haley loved Alex, but she didn’t think she loved him that way. And he still had all his hair too.

There was no way to tell Sam all this though, especially because any more questions he could have asked were cut off by a knock at the door. Sam got up to open it without even checking who it was, which, when Haley saw Abigail, dressed in all black in the late spring heat, she kind of wished he had.

“My parents are driving me fucking insane, so I figured I’d chill with you—” and then Abigail sees Haley, and her mouth snaps shut. She make a motion likes she’s going to close the door on herself, but Sam holds it open.

“Yeah, come on in dude, we’re just watching TV.”

Sometimes, Haley wishes Sam was just a little less friendly.

Abigail is evidently thinking the same thing. She sits on Sam’s other side and gives Haley a challenging, evaluating stare. Not to be intimidated, Haley juts her chin up defiantly. Sam pretends to be oblivious to the whole thing, flipping through channels to find something more interesting. Thankfully, an episode of Game of Thrones is playing, and when Abigail crows that they should watch that, she looks sidelong at Haley, waiting for her response. Haley shrugs.

“I’m down,” she says. Abigail looks surprised. “The cinematography is great. Just because I’m not a massive nerd doesn’t mean I don’t like that medieval fantasy stuff.” Abigail’s face darkens.

“Right. Wouldn’t want to admit to liking nerd stuff, huh. Might ruin the past-your-prime prom queen thing you’ve got going on,” Abigail snapped. For a moment, everything went quiet for Haley, as the fury built up, a pressure behind her temples.

“What the fuck is your problem?” she asked angrily.

“I don’t have a problem, I’m just sick of the girly-girl ‘better than everyone’ act you have going on. Being pretty isn’t going to get you through everything,” Abigail retorted. Haley pressed her lips together, and gave a little huff of frustration.

“And being an asshole isn’t going to make you any prettier,” Haley bites back. Sam springs up from the couch to try to diffuse the situation, but it’s too late. Haley is up and storming out before either of them can say another word.

It isn’t till Haley is leaning against her bedroom door, the frame still shaking slightly from how hard she slammed it, that she remembers that she left her packages in Sam’s living room, and she groans.

-

-

She manages to avoid going back and getting the packages for a whole week, which is kind of shocking considering that Sam is her next door neighbor and Jodi would probably have let her in without any questions. It’s still not as shocking when the doorbell rings, and Haley opens the door to see Abigail, holding the boxes in outstretched hands. She studiously avoids eye contact when she wordlessly passes them to Haley.

“…Thanks?” Haley tries, confused by this apparent peace offering.

“Sam wouldn’t let up till I apologized. Sorry about being a bitch earlier this week. I guess I’m just used to people making fun of the stuff I like,” Abigail says begrudgingly, still avoiding eye contact. Haley shrugged. She feels oddly light, like the transfer of boxes unburdened her instead of Abigail.

“Apology accepted. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you I swear, I just… guess I could have phrased it better,” she says, a little embarrassed. Abigail does look her in the eye then, and Haley is struck again by the intensity of those green eyes. She tucks a curl of purple hair behind her hair, and Haley’s eyes trail her fingers.

“Probably,” Abigail agrees, and Haley would be offended if she didn’t pair it with a wry little smile. “Guess we could both do better.” They look at each other in tense silence for a second. Haley doesn’t really know what to say. She wants to ask Abigail what she means—she doesn’t remember seeing people make fun of her in high school, after all, even though she was kind of an oddball. But then she sees Sam out of the corner of her eye, giving Abigail a not at all subtle thumbs up, and she has to laugh. Abby follows her line of sight, and she visibly relaxes, like an invisible string holding her up was cut.

“I should get back to him. You know you can’t leave him alone for a second,” she says, and turns to walk back to Sam’s.

“Yeah, of course,” Haley replies quietly. She only remembers to close the door when the whistle of Emily’s tea kettle goes off in the background, and by then, Abigail has already disappeared inside.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Emily is cooking dinner and Haley is painting her nails at the kitchen table when Emily broaches the topic.

“So my clothing sales have been really good recently,” she starts. Haley nods.

“Yeah, I saw Robin wearing the dress you made for her the other day when I was getting groceries. I think It’s the first time I saw her in anything not made of denim,” Haley replies distractedly, trying to decide whether not she ought to do an accent nail design. She opts for simplicity.

“Yeah. I dunno Haley. Between the clothing sales and the stuff I’ve saved up from the Stardrop, I think I could really make fashion school happen now.”

“Honestly, I don’t know why keep saying you need to save up,” Haley replies, a little bored by the familiar nature of the conversation. “Between the savings accounts Mom set up for us and the ten thousand times Jason _promised_ you wouldn’t have to take out loans I think you’re set whenever you want.”

“That’s thing Hales. I think I want it soon. Like… next year soon,” Emily says quietly. For a moment, the only noise in the house is the gentle burble of the pot simmering on the stove top, and the crickets waking up outside.

“Next year? What do you mean next year?” Haley says, a little dizzy. She puts down her nail polish, even though she’s only done half the fingers on her right hand. She doesn’t trust her hand not to shake. “Don’t you have to apply? And get accepted and… I don’t know, doesn’t it take more _time_ than that?” Haley asked, her voice more pleading than she liked.

“Haley…” Emily looks sad and guilty, which makes Haley feel sad and guilty, which inevitably makes Haley mad. Anger is expressible.

“Typical,” she snaps, “Just spring this on me and expect me to follow along huh? Some people need more than just 'good vibes' to go off of Em.” Emily sighs.

“No, of course not Haley, I'm not going to uproot you without you wanting to… Look, I know we talked about getting out of here but… You remember my friend Sandy? From Calico Desert? Sh’s planning on moving there for grad school in the fall, and she suggested we go 50/50 on an apartment. I have bartending experience, I can work shifts in the city to cover my half of rent and work on my applications, and then I’d already be settled by the time I’m ready to start. There’s enough places in the city, I’d end up going somewhere.” Emily’s explanation starts out tentative, but by the end of it, she’s pouring forth words like a fountain, a splash of cold water in Haley’s face

“So you’d go… and I’d stay here with the house?” Haley asked slowly. Emily nods.

“You’ve been out of school a couple years now Hales. I figured you must have found something you liked and wanted to do, right? You’re an adult after all, you probably need the space,” She said, half a statement and half a plea. Haley sighed, the rage leaving with a gust of breath.

“Yeah, of course,” Haley nodded in agreement. “Totally.”

Emily seemed relieved, and then the smell of burning sauce distracts her, rescuing Haley from having to tell her older sister exactly what she likes so much. Guilt and anger war within Haley. She had never asked Emily to stick around and take care of her, to put off school for her, after all. But she also knows she never had to.

_You’re an adult._ People keep telling her that.

She really wishes she could believe it.

-

When Haley set out to change her routine up, she kind of expected that to mean watching movies with Sam instead of Alex, or maybe Penny.

She did not expect anything like the farmer. She’s unpredictable and wild, appearing from almost nowhere with a trinket or a basket of apples. She’s willing to play catch with Alex, which Haley firmly will not, and her making Alex happy makes Haley happy. And it turns out that not knowing them in high school is a bonus. She doesn’t expect Haley to be a self-centered airhead, which… she could get used to. And she doesn’t talk about Alex like he’s some kind of self-assured god, like people did in high school, or like he’s an arrogant idiot, which she’s heard whispered too often.

Haley doesn’t understand the woman, but she _likes_ her, which surprises her. Haley doesn’t like that many people, and if she was going to choose anyone, she wouldn’t have chosen the muddy farmer that smells like pig shit.

But, she thinks ruefully, washing the mud and feathers out of her hair after her tumble in Marnie’s barn, look at her now.

Don’t get her wrong, she wouldn’t _choose_ this, not by a long shot. But it turns out it’s hard to pretend you have everything together when the person you’re talking to just watched you topple off a cow into a pile of straw and barnhouse filth. It definitely took the pressure to impress off of her shoulders. She was halfway through showing the farmer her photos when the woman said, unexpectedly,

“You could do this professionally you know.” Haley had blinked in surprise, reflexively thanking her and shrugging demurely.

Haley is still thinking about it when she’s warm in her blankets, hair still wet and starting to curl, going through the photos from the day on her laptop.

She probably could, huh.

-

-

For the next week, it’s all she thinks about. She looks at internships, at websites, at job listings. Thanks to years of generous birthday gifts, she actually has almost a full set of professional equipment already. And she wouldn’t have to go back to school, she thinks, with a heavy sigh of relief. She could start out here. Stardew Valley is famous for its scenery after all—what better place? And maybe if she gets a good portfolio together, and a website, she could swing an internship in the city. It’s a big, scary possibility, if she’s being honest with herself. But she likes the idea of having her own career, her own passion. She likes the idea of sitting down at Emily’s kitchen table in her apartment in Zuzu city and feeling like an equal, able to swap stories about _her_ clients and projects. Maybe, she thinks, she could travel with her mom. She could do travel photography, and write articles and reviews like in the magazines she reads.

Of course, she needs to start small, she reminds herself. A website. A portfolio of Stardew Valley. Her new project.

It makes Haley feel… different. Like a makeover, but for whatever’s inside of her. She doesn’t know if anyone else notices, but she knows and somehow, that changes _everything._

-

-

It is _pouring_. Haley is huddled under an outcropped of stone near the mouth of that creepy cave, her body curled protectively around her camera, cursing herself for thinking that taking pictures of the coming storm clouds was a good idea. Why had she thought she would get back home in time to miss the rain?!

She has never wanted an ugly plastic poncho and a pair of galoshes more. Right now, Haley would give up any of her nice clothing to get her camera out of here without losing the photos on it. She can replace the parts, but… the pictures were _really_ good.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing there, like an angry, drenched cat, before she hears… music.

Great.

Now she’s losing her mind.

But the music gets louder, clearer. And then, among the trees, she sees a shock of purple hair. _What…_ she thinks, and then Abigail steps out eyes, half closed in pleasure as she plays. _She_ had the good sense to put on a jacket, Haley thinks ruefully, but she doesn’t seem to have cared enough to actually zip it up. She’s soaked all the way through, her clothes sticking to her body almost obscenely, her purple curls plastered to her forehead.

When she sees Haley, she breaks off immediately.

“What… what are you _doing_ here?” Abigail asks, sprinting through the rain towards her, eyes wide with bewilderment.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Haley replied pertly. Her eyes travel to the flute in Abigail’s hand, but she can’t bring herself to _ask_ , to admit to Abigail how badly she wants to understand what's going on in her head.

Abigail shrugs. She seems a little… embarrassed? Honestly, Haley hadn’t realized that Abigail _could_ be embarrassed. She seemed to thrive on sticking out like a sore thumb.

“It sounded nice,” Haley prompted, and is rewarded with a little smile.

“It’s nice playing in the rain. Gives the whole thing some _atmosphere_ , you know?” she say, waving her hand abstractly. Haley looks down at the camera nestled close to her chest, and after a moment, she nods. Abigail looks surprised, and then.. another little smile.

“Doesn’t really seem like your scene though,” she says, and before Haley can jump to her own defense, she continues, “At least, not without a designer raincoat and matching camera case. Did it get wet?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s going to at this rate—the rain’s not letting up any time soon,” Haley says glumly. Abigail blinks owlishly at her for a moment, and then all of a sudden she’s in Haley’s personal space, shoving in next to her underneath the overhang.

“Budge over,” she scolds Haley, who needs no prompting to jump away from her wet clothes, the sudden heat of her body. Abigail takes off the jacket and shakes it out, and when she’s satisfied with how dry it is, she holds it out to Haley. “Wrap it up,” she says. “Then we can get you home before you drown out here.”

“Won’t you be cold?” Haley asks, staring at Abigail’s bare shoulders, corded with a surprising amount of muscle. Abigail laughs, stepping back out into the rain, out of Haley’s reach.

“Nah, I run hot. Come on,” she urges, and after the briefest moment of hesitation, Haley follows.

They talk about art on the walk home, Abigail’s flute playing and Haley’s photography, and Haley realizes that this is probably the first real conversation they’ve ever had, just the two of them. It’s… nice, and when they finally get to the house, Haley invites Abigail in to look at the photos. She takes a couple minutes to unwrap the camera and fuss over it while Abigail strips off her boots by the front door, looking afraid to touch anything in the house. When Haley shows Abigail the photos, she’s trying not to watch her face anxiously. If anyone’s going to be honest with her about them, she figures it’s Abigail, who has no good reason to be nice to Haley, and has historically actually probably been the opposite. So when Abigail wrinkles her brow looking at one, Haley chalks up the pounding of her heart to career anxiety.

“These are… amazing Haley. Goddamn. How does no one know how good you are at these?” She asks quietly. Self-consciously, Haley looks away and shrugs.

“I don’t know. People never really asked, I guess? I mean they like my Instagram photos and all but I didn’t post all of these on there and it felt like showing them off was just _asking_ to embarrass myself,” she admitted.

“You? Embarrass yourself?” Abigail asked, seeming genuinely surprised that the thought might bother Haley. “Nah, I don’t think so. I’ve gone to some pretty fancy photo exhibits in the city with Sebastian, and I can tell you I’d rather look at your pictures any day.” She blushes a little, as if embarrassed by how nice she’s letting herself be.

“Well…” Haley starts tentatively, “I’m putting together a portfolio. Some of the landscape and animal shots you saw are going to be in there, but I need some portraits… maybe I can pay you back for rescuing my camera with a photoshoot?” She asks sweetly, batting her lashes and giving her a tried-and-true pout.

Abigail blinked. “A photoshoot of what?” she asked. Her brain appears to catch up with her a few seconds later. “Wait of— me?” Abigail barks out a laugh. Haley draws back like she was burned, but her next moment is one of clarity. Abigail isn’t nervous because she thinks that Haley would be bad at it, but because Abigail thinks _she_ might be bad at it.

“Ok so maybe it’s more of a favor to me,” Haley says, changing tactics. She figure Abigail is more likely to agree if she thinks she’s the generous one here. “But I’ll get you back for it.” Abigail still seems uncertain, but Haley’s hitting her groove now. “Honestly, between my makeup and my camera, the photos will be their own reward," she adds cockily.

That gets a laugh out of Abby, a little chuffing sound. “Alright, I guess if it helps with your portfolio. Although you’re probably gonna regret it once we get started, I’m a terrible model.”

That’s all Haley needed. She shakes her head firmly. “You can’t say that if you’ve never tried it. Just give me a chance, and let me do it _my way_ , no complaints.” Abby rolls her eyes exaggeratedly, but she’s still smiling. Haley’s mind is going a million miles a minute. She has some eyeshadow palettes that don’t complement her coloring and eyes at all, but Abby’s eyes are such a lovely shade of green…

“Fine, but you’ll owe me twice then,” Abby replies, shaking her wet head like a dog and scattering droplets of water across the entryway of the house. Haley shrieks, which just make Abigail laugh, and after a brief scuffle, she’s gone, walking back to her house in the pouring rain, jacket draped over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later, warm and dry and in her fluffiest pajamas, Haley realizes she probably should have invited Abigail to stay and warm up for a little. _Oh well,_ she thinks. _Next time._


	3. Chapter 3

“And she agreed?” Alex asks doubtfully, when Haley tells him the story of that rainy day. 

“Yeah. I was surprised too! Look, I’m just saying that with a little bit of styling she could pull off that dark, sexy, brooding look. God I wish I thought of it when we were stuck in that stupid storm, now that would be a photoshoot,” Haley goes on, tossing another piece of popcorn at Alex. He catches it in his mouth with stunning accuracy, raising an eyebrow at her after he does.

“How come you never call me sexy?” He asks, chewing with his mouth open. She makes a face at him and throws another piece of popcorn at his face.

“That’s why,” she says, but he looks genuinely hurt, and she backpedals almost immediately. “No, you know you’re hot, stop it.” His smug smile makes her roll her eyes. Tricked again. “I was going to ask you to model for me first, obviously, but I ran into her and it just kind of…. happened?” 

“I don’t know why you’re acting all surprised, why wouldn’t she want to hang out with you?” he asks. Haley has to stop and think about that.

“She’s always been so weirdly hostile and standoffish to me… But I don’t know, Emily said she just doesn’t know how to hang out with women. All her friends are guys after all,” she finally says. Alex shrugs.

“So? I hang out with you and I can still hang out with guys,” he says. Haley looks doubtfully at him.

“Alex, you haven’t hung out with other guys since your five year high school reunion, unless you’re counting your grandpa,” she says, and even when she says it, she knows it’s a little too mean. She knows why he hasn’t hung out with his high school friends. It’s the same reason she doesn’t really talk to her old friends since they went off to state school, except for commenting on their Instagram photos. What does she have to tell them, after all? She sighs, and tries to distract him. “I hung out with Sam the other day. He’s a nice guy, you should say hi next time you’re at my place.” Alex looks a little uncomfortable at that. They both know that Alex took Sam quitting gridball a little too seriously, but Haley has the good grace to not bring that up directly. 

“Maybe,” he relents, and then brightens a little. “Maybe I can convince him to come to the gym with me. I need someone to spot me when I lift.” Haley rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She loves Alex, but there’s things—a lot of things—that she refuses to do with him. It would be nice for him to have some guy friends to do his sweaty jock thing with again. “I guess now that you’re so tight with _Abigail_ I’m gonna need to find some new friends,” he sighs heavily, flopping his head down on her lap. Haley rolls her eyes, even as she feeds him another piece of popcorn.  
  
“Stop it. We’ve literally had one conversation where she didn’t yell at me, that’s it. I’m pretty sure she hates me,” she says, and wow, she really hadn’t meant that to come out as pouty as it did. Alex doesn’t miss it either, and his eyes narrow.

“That’s impossible Hales, no one can hate you,” he declares with finality. “Look you said yourself she’s just got some hangup about hanging out with girls. You’re the best girl in Stardew Valley, there’s no one better to fix that.” Haley pats his head affectionately.

“I love having you on my side,” she says, almost too quietly for him to hear. Clearing her throat, she adds. “But don’t say that around the farmer girl Alex. Not if you actually want her to go out with you. I saw you look at her you know.” He goes red immediately.

“God Haley, I’m so sorry—” He starts and she laughs. 

“Relax. I’m not mad, I broke up with you remember? You didn’t do anything wrong,” she points out, and the tension eases from his body. She rubs his shoulder soothingly. “Anyway, I’m on your side. I’ve been wing-manning you so hard.” He laughs.

“Great. My ex is gonna help me hit on the new farmer girl, this can’t go wrong. Since when were you such an expert in picking up chicks?” he asks, and then he smiles wickedly. “Unless when you were talking about that photoshoot with Abigail…” 

“Alex!” Haley squeals and swats his shoulder. “Don’t be gross.” But her cheeks are red, and his eyes are soft and welcoming. Haley doesn’t know what she’d do without him.

-  
-  


“Did no one ever teach you how to do your makeup?” Haley asks. Abigail is staring at the her dresser and all the supplies spread across it with obvious mistrust, and she shakes her head.

“It’s not really my thing,” she starts and Haley rolls her eyes. “No, not like that! I mean like… my mom always wanted me to let her do my makeup, for the flower dance and stuff like that. But I hate that dress and I hate getting all dressed up for her to parade me in front of all of her mom friends so she can pretend she has a normal daughter for a minute. I wasn’t going to let her win like that.” Her explanation leaves Haley a little stunned for a second. 

She’d seen Abigail argue with her parents of course, who hadn’t? But she had kind of assumed it was the way she’d throw a tantrum with Emily, or her mom, when they didn’t let her do what she wanted for her own good. She’d get red faced and shout, and then she’d feel guilty about it all night after. There was real resentment in Abigail’s voice though, raw and bitter.

That realization makes her… sad. Some of Haley’s fondest memories are getting ready for the holidays with her mom and Emily, all crowded in front of the bathroom mirror, bickering about who gets to wear what jewelry and whether they’re too old to wear color coordinated outfits. She remembers being a little girl, watching her mother do her makeup in the early gray mornings. Haley thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. To have those moments be something you dreaded…. Haley pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow as she contemplated it. 

Abigail must have read something else in Haley’s silence though, because she turns her face away. 

“Look, if you don’t want to do it for me, that’s fine, I only came here because—” and Haley had to cut her off.

“Oh my god Abigail, shut up.” Abigail gapes at her, a little fish like, and it gives her a kind of immense satisfaction she wasn’t expecting. “Of course I’m going to do your makeup, that was the whole point! I just wanted to check if you had any specific products you didn’t want me to use or whatever.”

“Oh.” Abigail looks surprised, and a little bashful. “I mean, I don’t. What else are you waiting for?”

Haley never misses her cues. With a little flourish, she rolls out her makeup brushes, and tilts the lamp by her dresser to get a better angle of Abigail’s face. She’s quiet for a second, evaluating her, and Abigail visibly fidgets in her seat. But when Haley puts two fingers under her chin to tilt her face up, Abigail freezes completely.

“You’ve got nice cheekbones,” Haley murmurs. “And gorgeous eyes. This won’t be hard.” Abigail jerks a little under her hand, but stays quiet until Haley draws back. “Want me to put on some music?” she asks hurriedly, hoping for something to fill the silence, and Abigail nods emphatically.

Haley puts on some soft country music, and Abigail rolls her eyes. 

“Really? I thought you were all about getting out of the countryside,” she says, propping her elbow up and slouching over the dresser, like some kind of lazy jungle cat. Haley shrugs.

“I mean, I get sick of it don’t get me wrong. But… I dunno. The valley’s beautiful. And people are nicer here, I think. They get to know you. Those connections make a difference.” The words come out of Haley’s mouth, and for a second, she finds herself wondering if she was actually the one who said them. More surprisingly, she thinks she might even mean it. “Besides,” she adds hurriedly, “I like the slower pace of life. Why should I move to the city and deal with rude strangers and get wrinkles by the time I’m 30?” Abigail rolls her eyes.

“I guess it makes a difference when the people here actually like you,” she says softly. Haley lays down the last of the products she’s decided to use in front of Abigail, and then turns to face her. 

“Abby…” Abigail catches the use of the nickname before Haley does, giving her a confused look. “Have people been mean? I mean I know you stick out, but I’ve never heard anyone talk shit about you…” she said, her statement trailing off into more of a plea. Abigail sighs.

“No. Yes. I don’t know, it’s not one big thing. I mean, my parents are pretty honest about how they feel,” she says, with a hoarse little laugh. “But it’s mostly just…little comments. Or getting weird looks. Or just… not being invited.”

Haley thinks about that. Usually, she was the one doing the inviting. Growing up, she was the one with the cool single mom and the big fancy house. It just made the most sense. But.. she hadn’t really invited Abigail to things either, she realizes, with a hot flush of shame. She picks up the makeup brush, and with a bit of new steel in her voice, she says, “Well, then they’re missing out.” After all… she thinks she might have been. “Now rub this primer in so I can get started on your makeup.” 

Abigail seems relieved at the close of that topic, and she readily obeys. Haley puts her fingers under her chin again, to tilt her head back and start on her concealer. She talks Abigail through what she does as she goes along. She figures this way, if Abigail does decide she wants to try on her own, she has an idea of what’s going on without having to ask Caroline.

“Your skin is amazing—don’t tell me, I know you don’t have a skincare routine, and if you tell me, it’s just going to make me mad— so I don’t need to put a ton of foundation on,” she narrates. Abigail lets Haley move her without resistance, turning her head and tucking back her curls as she needs. It makes Haley feel surprisingly powerful, to have someone who seems so… unbending respond to a tap on her cheek so obediently. There’s a warmth in her stomach when she thinks about it, a little flutter of something that she doesn’t want to examine too closely. 

Of course she’s proud of her success. Who wouldn’t be? Abigail’s proof that Haley can charm anyone. 

She opts for something soft and natural. Long lashes and soft lavender eyeshadow that makes those green eyes pop. A little blush, a little contour, and a sweep of a nude lipstick that she taps on with a tip of a finger.

Abigail’s lips are a lot softer than she expected. Haley isn’t sure how long she stays there, her eyes focused on the curve of Abigail’s mouth, almost seated in her lap after fifteen or twenty minutes of maneuvering to find a good angle to do her eyeliner from. She’s suddenly very aware of how close her chest is to Abigail’s face, and the spot where her thigh is pressed up against the other girl’s. Abigail’s breath quickens beneath her, and Haley jerks back with a start. Abigail turns her face away quickly. 

“Are we finally done?” she growls. Haley shakes herself back into some semblance of order. 

“Not even close. I haven’t even started on your hair—and girl, this deep conditioning is going to take a while, so you better get comfy.” Abigail groans, but she’s half smiling. It’s a victory Haley’s willing to claim. 

Haley figures she should have started with Abigail’s hair, but she’s careful to protect the makeup she did from water, and the break gives her and Abigail time to flip through a stack of her old magazines for inspiration. The silence is quiet and companionable, for once, instead of tense. And Abigail gets into it herself after a bit too. She agrees on keeping her newly softened hair loose, and Haley catches Abigail stroking her lazy curls with a little bit of wonder when she thinks Haley isn’t looking. She refuses to put on a dress, but they go back and forth on outfit ideas, and she lets Haley convince her into one of her favorite soft, long sleeved wrap tops.

“It’s going to be too small,” she warns Haley from the bathroom, where she’s getting dressed. Haley rolls her eyes, figuring she’s exaggerating, but when Abigail comes out of the bathroom, Haley realizes how wrong she was.

It’s not a bad thing. The top’s short in the arms, but she can just roll the sleeves up. It’s the cleavage that really stands out. Haley’s not completely flat chested, don’t get it twisted, but she’s not too proud to take assistance from a good pushup bra. Abigail, she realizes, has probably been wearing sports bras this entire time, because there is no other way she could have been hiding those. Abigail scowls.

“I told you it wasn’t—” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest, but Haley cuts her off. 

“Abby… your tits are amazing,” she breathes out, and Abigail blinks, letting her arms settle to her sides. “How do you not have every boy in Stardew Valley worshipping at your feet?” she asks, standing up to fuss with Abigail’s outfit, tucking and pinning and, ok, maybe letting her hands linger a little longer than she should. 

Abigail rolls her eyes. “Haven’t you heard?” she asks dryly. “It’s because I’ve already let Sam and Sebastian and their city friends run a train on me. It’s old news.” Haley sucks in a breath and steps back.

“…I’m sorry Abby. People suck.” She doesn’t really know what else to say. Abigail shrugs. 

“It’s fine. They’re not… completely wrong,” she admits, not meeting her eyes. Haley blinks uncomprehendingly at her. “I mean, not with their city friends! Just them.” Haley makes a little oh with her lips. There’s a little pang in her chest she doesn’t understand.

“So you’re dating… both of them?” she asks tentatively. Abigail laughs.

“Oh my god no! I mean, not anymore. It was pretty casual.” Haley lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “And it was mostly Sebastian anyway.” 

“Are you… do you have, you know… feelings for him?” she asks. God, she’s never been so nervous to dig for gossip before. Abigail shrugs.

“I should have known you were such a _romantic._ I mean, I did I guess. But, I don’t know… it was in high school you know? I’m over it. I didn’t like sharing, and he’s not into ‘ _monogamy’_ so…” she says with little air quotes. Haley didn’t even know that was an option. She’s really learning a lot, she thinks. “It’s really not that big of a deal, not like being high school sweethearts or anything.” 

Now it’s Haley’s turn to shrug it off. “I mean, it’s like you said. It was more of a high school thing. I think everyone else made it more than it was.”

“Seriously? Weren’t you voted cutest couple or something like that?” 

“Oh we still are,” Haley says with a regal toss of her hair. “But I don’t know.. I think it was more of feeling like we should be dating than that we wanted to be,” she admits. “It was nice though, you know? Always having a date to the dance and a jersey to wear for gridball games? But I don’t know… maybe we’ve just known each other too long for there to be… butterflies or whatever.”

She’s never told anyone else that, she realizes. Abigail seems to realize this too, as she quietly digests this. Haley saves her from having to come up with a response. Instead, she grabs her by the arm and drags her over to where she set up her lighting equipment while Abigail was getting dressed.

“Ok, now let’s just start with some candid shots…”

Once Abigail gets over her initial self-consciousness, she’s actually not too bad at it. Haley has to distract her from thinking about her pose or her expression, so she keeps up an endless stream of commentary to force Abigail out of her head. It works. She gets some really lovely close-ups of her profile, the sharp jut of her chin and the soft slope of her cheek, and those long dusky lashes around half-closed eyes.

After Haley’s exhausted herself, and gotten at least a half dozen photos she thinks she’ll really like, she sets the camera down and flops into her fluffy armchair. “Ok, give me a second to think, and then maybe we can do one more look and call it a day?” Abigail’s flipping through one of the magazines again, and she stops on a page.

“Sure,” she says thoughtfully. “Maybe I can give my makeup a shot this time even.” Haley sits up with excitement. 

“Of course! Show me what you’ve learned!” she cheers enthusiastically. Abigail takes the magazine and the supplies she picked out into the bathroom with her, because she doesn’t want Haley hovering and judging her, apparently. Haley would complain, but she’s actually pretty tired after all the photography and emotional outpouring, and she’s content to laze in her armchair, half asleep as she flips through her phone.

When the bathroom door creaks open though, Haley is suddenly very awake. Abigail has done… something to all of Haley’s hard work. The soft eyeshadow has been replaced by a streak of ink black, an exaggerated cat eye that looks even blacker for the paleness of Abigail’s skin. _I should hate this,_ Haley thinks. Abigail listened to Haley for at least twenty minutes and then went and broke every makeup rule Haley taught her. But… the gleam of her green eyes is brilliant against the unnatural black, and it stops any words Haley had been preparing in their tracks. _She looks like some kind of jungle cat,_ Haley thinks. It’s something about the almost unnatural gleam in Abigail’s eyes and the shifting of the muscles beneath her skin when she moves. Moves towards her. Haley’s mouth is suddenly very dry. She licks her lips, and asks a little hoarsely,

“What the hell is that supposed to be?”

Abigail grins with all her teeth, and Haley is suddenly very dizzy, and very grateful that she didn’t stand up. “You like it? I copied it out of one of your magazines. Maybe this fashion stuff isn’t all bullshit.” 

Haley swallows. “It suits you,” she admits, a little reluctantly, and pushes herself out of her chair once she’s sure she’s not going to embarrass herself by immediately passing out. “But the lighting and props I set up don’t work with it at all, I’m gonna have to change everything! You just had to make things harder for me, didn’t you?” she scolded. Abigail sprawls on top of Haley’s bed, waiting for her to make the adjustments, looking immensely self-satisfied.

Haley knows she should have hated it, but the photos she gets, dark shadows dappling over Abigail’s face, her intense glare from behind the fringe of her dark bangs… Well, they’re the best pictures she took all day.  
  



	4. Chapter 4

When the photos she took of Abigail are processed, and Haley takes a second glance at them, she’s suddenly very sure of what she wants to base her portfolio around. The scenery of Stardew is beautiful, and they’re a major part of every picture but… she loves these people too. She likes portraits, she finds out. There’s a challenge that she likes to paring everything she knows about her friends and family that she’s grown up with, spent her whole life with, down into one or two photos.

True to her word, she photographs Alex next. She does some headshots and a couple fashion poses for him, at his behest ( _Hey, maybe I’ll go into modeling if gridball doesn’t work out_ , he had said, and she rolled her eyes and smiled fondly). But the ones she keeps for her portfolio are of him cooking dinner with his grandmother after Sunday afternoon church. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up and his grandmother's apron is tied around his waist. His brow is wrinkled as he reads the recipe she gave him, trying to make sure it’s low enough in cholesterol for George and high enough in protein for him. Evelyn barely comes up to his shoulder, and she looks fondly at him from out of frame. 

Haley puts that one in her portfolio. She makes another copy and hangs it up on her wall.

Emily models for her as well. Haley gets a picture of her perched on her windowsill, her sewing in one hand, looking wistfully out at the horizon. The parrot she rescued is loyally tucked into the curve of her neck. Haley makes a copy of that one too, a reminder for herself when she finally has to let her sister go.

After that, Haley has to actually… tell other people about her project, and ask them to pose for her. It’s nerve-wracking. She expects people to doubt her. She doubts herself, after all. She keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be told to _just stick to what you’re good at_. What’s safe. But… it never comes. Everyone she brings it up to is supportive, even excited. Haley starts to look forward to asking people, especially people she doesn’t talk to much. There’s something nice about getting to know them, getting to capture them in a photo, and then getting to leave before they start getting a little _too_ comfortable. Even Clint is bearable when she can just order him to keep his mouth shut. Haley takes his photo in his workshop, the red glare of the furnace reflecting off the sweat of his forehead. She's never seen him look so confident.

-

-

She photographs Elliot on the beach, barefoot in the sand, the discarded drafts of his novel scattered around him and fluttering in the breeze. The sun is setting, and the raw amber glow catches the tangles of his hair, lighting them up. By the time she finishes, it’s getting dark. Elliot bids her adieu, and heads to the Stardrop for his regular drinks with Leah. Haley stays to watch the last of the sun drop below the horizon, and then with the waning light, she goes to pack up her equipment. It’s chilly now. The golden haze of summer is fading, and the crisp evenings feel more and more like fall. _This might be my last day sunbathing here for the year_ , she thinks wistfully. She’s putting away her towel and throwing on an oversized shirt she stole from Alex, that she keeps at a coverup, when she realizes that something is missing. Her grandmother’s bracelet, which she was expecting to tumble out of her pile of clothes, is nowhere to be found.

Oh no. This can’t be right.

She scrambles on the ground, combing through the sand of her usual tanning spot to see if maybe it got covered up by a breeze. But her hands come up empty, and the dark is approaching rapidly now. She’s having a harder and harder time seeing in front of her, and her fingers are tingling a little with cold. Finally, she collapses onto the beach, and her rapid breathing gives way to heaving sobs.

God, she is such an _idiot_. So _careless_. Why did she have to wear the one piece of jewelry she couldn’t replace?

Haley is so lost in her own misery that she doesn’t hear her name the first time it’s said.

“Haley! Are you ok?” Abigail shouts, closer now, and Haley jerks her head up. Abigail has a torch in hand, the flickering light elongating her face with dancing shadows. For a moment, Haley’s almost afraid of her, and then Abigail’s hand is on her shoulder.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” She asks frantically, setting the torch down gingerly so that she can examine Haley, tear stained and crumpled on the ground like a used tissue. Haley just shaking her head, and burbles out another little sob. She feels so _stupid_ , crying like this in front of cool, composed Abigail, who acts like she’s never been sentimental about anything in her life. But the other girl doesn’t say anything. She puts an awkward arm around Haley’s shoulder.

“Hey… look, I got you, I’m here. Let me help you,” she murmurs, and that’s about all Haley can take. She collapses against Abigail, who stays stiff as a board underneath her. Finally, Abigail’s hand comes up, and feather-light, strokes Haley’s hair tentatively. After a minute or two of this, Haley’s breathing slows enough that she can lift her chin and look at Abigail.

“I lost… I lost my bracelet,” she manages to whimper out. Abigail, who had been looking at her with naked concern, lets out a heavy sigh of relief, tinged with annoyance.

“Is that all? Jesus. Haley you scared the shit out of me! I thought something serious had happened,” she laughed. _Laughed._ Haley jerks away from her as if burned.

“Serious?” she repeats shrilly, and Abigail shrugs.

“Look Haley, I’m sure it was a nice bracelet. But it’s just jewelry, you don’t need to get so worked up over it—your parents are loaded aren’t they? Can’t you just buy a new one?” Abigail asked, patting her shoulder in a way that made Haley see red for a moment.

“You- stupid—condescending _jerk!”_ Haley snaps, shoving her hand away. When Abigail reaches out again, Haley scrambles back in the sand, grabbing her things. “You don’t know anything! Stay away from me!” She’s tearing up again, but she won’t let Abigail see her cry over her words. _She’d just think I was being hysterical_ , Haley thinks darkly. She storms barefoot off the beach, nearly sprinting over the bridge, not stopping to see if Abigail was going to try to follow her.

-

-

By the time she reaches her house, her hurt has shifted to blind fury.

“I _HATE HER_ ,” she shouts as she swung shut the front door to the house. Emily looks up from the kitchen table, visibly alarmed.

“Who—” Emily she starts, visibly confused, and Haley actually _growls._

“Who else? _Abigail!_ That _stupid_ , rude… ugh!” Haley slams her bedroom door shut and flings herself into her bed, heedless of the sand she tracks into her sheets. She doesn’t leave for the next few hours, not when Emily opens the door to gently place her plate on her bedside table, not when her phone rings once, and then twice. She doesn’t even bother looking.

 _I’m so sorry grandmama_ , she thinks miserably. _I’m so, so sorry._ Her mother had given her the bracelet when she turned sixteen.

 _"This was your grandma’s that she gave to me. I know you’ve been missing her Haley… for a long time. I wanted to keep it safe, but Haley bear, she’d want you to have it. You were her last and favorite baby girl,"_ her mother had said, seated at the foot of her bed and stroking her hair. She had trusted her. " _Take good care of it_."

 _I’m sorry mama._ She couldn’t even take care of herself. Why had she thought she could take care of something so precious? She knows she’ll have to tell her mother what happened, but… she can’t think about that conversation yet. Maybe she’d ask Emily for advice first.

Haley is stalling, not quite ready to make the loss real by saying the words out loud to her sister. She hears raised voices coming from the front of the house, and creeps to her bedroom door, cracking it open with quiet practice.

“…absolutely NOT,” Emily is telling someone outside the front door firmly, her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what the fuck you did or why, but I can tell you that you are the _last_ person she wants to see right now.” Her sister, sweet Emily, usually so airy and unaffected, sounds _furious_.

“… no that’s not…” says the person outside the door, and Haley gapes a little. _Abigail?_ Was scolding her on the beach not enough? She had to come chew Haley out at home for yelling too?

Part of Haley knew that maybe she had overreacted, but that didn’t mean she was going to _apologize_. If pretending that things didn’t bother was what it took to be cool in Abigail’s books, she _wasn’t interested._

“Look, she’s allowed to be mad. I just wanted to give back her stuff. I’m leaving, I’m sorry,” Abigail huffed, frustration clear in her voice.

 _My stuff?_ Haley was really confused now. Did she leave some of her photography equipment in her rush to get out. She takes a deep breath, and lets the door swing open. Abigail sees her over Emily’s shoulder, and her eyes widen.

“Hey, Em, it’s ok. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Haley says, and Emily whips around.

“You sure Haley bear?” She asks stiffly. Haley nods. She thought she’d be angry the next time she saw Abigail, but at this point she’s just _tired_.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” Haley assures her. She tilts her chin at Abigail. “We can talk out here.”

Emily lets her pass, and Haley closes the door behind her gently. She’s sure Emily still going to peek out the front window at them, but at least there’s some semblance of privacy with the darkness cloaking them both. 

“Here to make fun of me again?” Haley asks flatly. Abigail winces. She looks _wrecked_ , Haley realizes. She’s grubby and covered in dirt, and there’s twigs and leaves in her hair. Wordlessly, she reaches out a hand, and when Haley reciprocates, Abigail drops the bracelet into her open palm.

“Oh my _god._ How did you find this? I thought I looked everywhere. I was so sure the sea got it…” Haley murmurs, a little unbelieving. Abigail shrugs.

“I used the torch to see if I could find anything glittering. I wanted to find it before the tide came in,” Abigail mutters, looking at the ground. “It was behind Elliot’s cabin, I’m not going to ask you why.” Haley blinks back fresh tears, guilt welling up in her stomach. _I changed there_ , she realized with a start. She had changed after their photoshoot, and snuck back there for a little privacy while Elliot finished his writing. She hadn’t even _thought_ to look there. She had no idea how Abigail could have.

“You must have combed the entire beach first…” Haley realizes. “God Abby, I’m so sorry I yelled.” Abigail relaxed her hunched shoulders ever so slightly.

“It’s alright,” she says quietly. “I probably wouldn’t have taken you seriously if you didn’t.” She doesn’t look happy about that.

“I guess we both could have done better,” Haley says echoing Abigail’s half-apology from weeks ago. “Do… you want to come inside?”

“Is Emily going to wring my neck if I do?” Abigail asks dryly, and Haley can’t help but choke out a little laugh.

“I’ll protect you, don’t worry,” she assures her, and Abigail huffs in amusement. When Haley opens the door, Emily is perched by the window as expected. She gives Haley a guilty look, and is clearly confused by Abigail’s presence. Haley shakes her head. She’ll explain later. Her and Abigail go into Haley’s room, and Haley flops back onto her bed. Abigail hovers awkwardly by her side, clearly unsure what she’s meant to do here.

“It’s my grandmama’s bracelet,” Haley explains, turning the gold and sapphire links over in her hand. “My mom’s mom. She came to live with us when my dad died… I was just a baby then. She helped my mom take care of us, and then we stayed with her during the summers when we got older. She… raised me.”

Abigail processes this, and then sighs heavily. “I’m sorry Haley. God. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t even ask.”

“You… couldn’t have known,” Haley admits, both to herself and Abigail. “I didn’t tell you. You can’t read my mind, that’s not fair.”

They’re both quiet for a bit, but it’s a comfortable silence. Finally, Haley realizes Abigail is still standing in front of her, looking down. “Do you.. want to sit down?” she asks tentatively. Abigail blinks, as if woken from a daze.

“Oh… no, no, it’s ok. It’s late, my dad’s gonna be pissed already,” she says with a start. Haley nods, slips the bracelet on, and walks her out. Emily is still in the living room, hovering over a cup of tea that must have gone cold hours ago. Haley watches Abigail go for a minute, then sits down at the kitchen table. They are both quiet for a second, but Haley know she's not getting out of this one without talking. 

“Ok, I feel ridiculous now, but let me explain…” she starts. Emily’s a good listener, she always has been. And she doesn’t scold Haley for losing the bracelet in the first place.

“Oh, Haley…” she sighs quietly. Haley rests her head against her sisters shoulder.

“I… couldn’t lose it, not when Mom isn’t even here,” she murmured. Emily strokes her hair gently, and nods.

“It’s ok honey. You didn’t,” Emily says soothingly, and then she smiles a little guiltily. “I guess I owe Abigail a drink on the house this Friday, huh?”

Haley laughs, wiping her nose on a napkin and standing up to heat up her dinner, now long cold. “I think _I_ owe her a drink, actually.”


	5. Chapter 5

The next time Haley runs into Abigail at the Stardrop, it is absolutely intentional.

She knows Abigail and Sebastian and Sam are there every Friday. She and Alex were the ones who never went, Alex for… obvious reasons, and her for support and company. But now, with the kind of certainty that comes from living in a small town with few other options for social congregation, Haley prepares for a night out. When she comes out of her room, ready to walk with Emily to her shift and keep her company before it gets too busy, Emily snorts a little laugh.

“You look nice. Maybe a little too nice for a five minute walk to the Stardrop,” she says, mostly diplomatically. Haley flushes a little, and crosses her arms across her chest defensively.

“Is it a crime to want to look nice every now and then? It’s not like we have anywhere _else_ to get dressed up to,” she says a little crossly. Emily nods thoughtfully, and then offers tentatively,

“You know… when I’m living in the city you should visit me. We could go out to actual bars and restaurants without having to worry about driving home.” Haley blinks. Even the thought makes her a little choked up, but she keeps her cool.

“Of _course_ I’ll be visiting you, you think I’m gonna pass up on an opportunity like that?” she scoffs. Emily smiles with relief, and the two of them walk to the Stardrop. The sun is starting to dip below the skyline, earlier and earlier every day now. Fall really is in the air, a crisp orange melancholy Haley has always associated with the start of school.

The saloon is mostly empty when they arrive, but Emily gets to work immediately. She and Gus both know they have a lot to prepare if they want to successfully balance serving the Friday night crowd and giving the warm, down-home welcome that the residents of Pelican town expect. Emily mixes Haley a drink a first, and Haley sips it slowly. Her heart is beating, and the realization almost annoys her. It’s not a big deal. She’s here to say hi to the townsfolk, and spend time with her sister, and buy Abigail a drink in thanks. It _not_ a big deal. Thankfully, she’s saved from her spiraling thoughts-- by Mayor Lewis of all people.

“Haley!” he says in delight, and she blinks in confusion. “It’s good to see you mingling with the rest of us _common folk_ ,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “I heard about your photography project, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in displaying it in the refurbished the Community Center? Our farmer has done such a good job cleaning it up, though I couldn’t tell you how, and I think it’s time to really revitalize it.”

Haley absolutely had not seen that coming. But Mayor Lewis seems genuinely interested in her work. Her _work_ , she realizes, a little dazed. Before long, she’s explaining the purpose of the portfolio, and how far into it she is. Mayor Lewis is eagerly trying to negotiate the number of prints he could get, when Abigail and Sam and Sebastian come in through the door. Before Abigail can see her watching, Haley looks away hurriedly, and pats Mayor Lewis’ hand in thanks.

“Mayor Lewis, I will absolutely let you see the finished project, and maybe we can figure out the details then!” she says quickly, ushering Emily over. Emily, intuitive as always, already has a beer in hand, which she passes to Haley. “I have to go… talk to Abigail, but thank you!” And with that, Haley is gone from the bar, leaving a bemused Mayor Lewis in her wake. She walks as quickly as she can without spilling the beer in her hand, and she’s so focused on not pouring beer all over her dress that she doesn’t realize that Abigail’s leaving the game room until she walks almost right into her.

“Haley!” Abigail grabs her shoulders to prevent a head on collision.

“…Hi?” Haley says a little breathlessly, looking up at her. “I bought you a beer.”

“You bought me a beer?” Abigail looks befuddles by the simple action.

“To say thank you?” Haley says, regaining some of her composure. “Obviously.” Abigail blinks, and then seems to shake herself back into alertness.

“Oh, yeah. Obviously. Um, thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” she mumbles a little awkwardly, taking the proffered beer and stepping back so Haley can join them in the game room. Sebastian and Sam are on opposite sides of the pool table, watching the two of them with interest.

“I mean, you’ve helped me out twice already, so I think I owe you something,” Haley disagrees. She nods her head imperiously at the two boys. “Now they can get their own drinks. You’re not their waitress.” Abigail gives her a little crinkly-eyed smile, and Haley takes a seat on the couch before anyone can say anything else.

“Three times.” Abigail says, sitting next to her.

“Excuse me?”

“You owe me three times. The rainstorm, the photoshoot, the bracelet,” she explains, taking a sip of the beer. “This is… a lot better than what I usually order. What is it?”

Haley shrugs, finally relaxing her shoulders. “Whatever Emily handed me. I don’t drink beer. I’m sorry, three times? No no _no_. That photoshoot _totally_ paid for itself,” she argues. Abigail rolls her eyes.

“Sure. Either way, I think I’ve still got you in my debt, so I’ll figure something out,” she says. There’s a glint in her eyes that’s almost… teasing. She makes it sound not so bad. “I’d ask you to cover one of my shifts, but with my luck my parents will like you way better and then I’ll be totally unemployed. Can't have that.”

From the side, Sam pipes up brightly, “We need another person for Seb’s next campaign!” Haley hadn’t even realized that he and Sebastian were back from getting their drinks, but apparently they’d been listening. She has no idea what Sam is talking about, but Abigail shoots him a dark glare that makes her a little nervous.

“Don’t,” she warns Sam, but Sebastian seems to have warmed to… whatever this idea is.

“He’s right Abigail. The Court of Jackals is technically a four person minimum story. I can’t DM _and_ play,” he adds in his low, quiet voice. Abigail scowls.

“Haley’s not into that sort of thing, she’d hate it,” Abigail argues, and Haley’s hackles are immediately up.

“You don’t know that!” she finds herself objecting, almost before she even has the thought. Sam and Sebastian exchange a look of conspiratorial glee. Abigail looks horrified. “After all,” Haley adds hurriedly. “You liked the photoshoot. Maybe I’ll like… whatever this is.” Her ending is a little anticlimactic, and Abigail looks dubious.

“Do you even know what the Solarian Chronicles are?” she asks. Haley deflates a little, shaking her head. Abigail is surprisingly gentle when she explains. Haley is unsure. She’s not into video games, which is Abigail’s first analogy, and she hasn’t played pretend since she was a kid, which was her second. But… this is the year of getting out of her comfort zone.

Besides, she owes Abigail.

“I’m in,” she says firmly, and finishes her drink. Abigail laughs.

“Alright princess,” she says, but it’s not unkind. “We’ll see.” They watch Sebastian kick Sam’s ass in yet another game of pool, and Haley shakes her head sadly.

“Why doesn’t Sebastian ever let him win?” she asks. Abigail shrugs.

“I dunno. Seems a little condescending, don’t you think? Would you want me to let you win out of pity?” she says. They’ve gotten another round of drinks, and Abigail’s already halfway through her third beer. Haley has taken two sips of her new drink, but she's already feeling the first one, a warmth blooming her chest. She rests her head on Abigail’s shoulder. 

“I think you’re making some big assumptions if you think you’d be the one taking pity on me,” she murmurs into Abigail’s ear. Abigail stiffens a little (Haley could have sworn she _shivered_ for a second there), and then grins.

“Is that a challenge?” she asks, and Haley stands up quickly, pulling Abigail up with her.

“Out of the way boys,” Haley says loudly, before Sebastian can reset the pool balls. “It’s our turn.”

Haley beats Abigail in two games before Abigail concedes, not gracefully.

“I drank twice as much as you, I’m at a disadvantage,” she argues. Haley rolls her eyes. She had no doubt she was going to win. She’s played pool with Alex for years, and _no one_ is as competitive as him.

“Sure hon, you keep thinking that,” she says fondly. She finishes the last of her cocktail, and yawns a little. “I need my beauty sleep though, so we’ll have to have a rematch another night.”

Abigail looks over into the next room. Her father is pounding on the bar with his fist, trying to make some kind of point to the mayor in loud, slightly slurred tones. She nods.

“The old people are getting rowdy. Let’s get out of her before Robin and Demetrius get all smoochy again,” she says. Sebastian makes a retching noise behind her as they file out of the game room. Haley shivers as soon as they step outside. Her sundress, perfect for the afternoon, is absolutely not sufficient for the late night chill. Abigail looks at her, and Haley can’t quit make out what the expression in her bright eyes is. Then, the other girl slides off her denim jacket and shoves it at Haley.

“Put it on,” she says gruffly. “You’re gonna freeze to death in that thing.” Her averted eyes and the little flush across the bridge of her nose make Haley smile softly. She puts the jacket on, and without even thinking about it, takes a little breath in, which she’s immediately embarrassed by. It smells like weed and cigarette smoke, which makes Haley wrinkle her nose, but also whatever fruity shampoo Abigail uses. “We’re gonna go smoke. Are you coming with?”

Haley’s surprised by the invitation, but she shakes her head. “Nah, not my thing.” She admits. Abigail shrugs.

“Want me to walk you home first? I can catch up with them,” she says, her voice unaffected even as Sebastian snickers behind her back.

“Abby! How come you never walk _me_ home?” Sam asks. His puppy eyes are surprisingly convincing giving how hard he’s trying not to laugh. Abigail glares at him, but Haley puts a hand on her arm as if to stop her. “Maybe I’m hoping you get eaten by a slime in the middle of the night,” Abigail replies dryly. Haley laughs.

“I’m alright. I’ll see you guys around,” she says softly, and turns to walk away. She very firmly does not let herself look back at the three of them. Instead, she wraps the jacket tighter around herself, ignoring the fact that she is most definitely not cold anymore.

-

-

“Alex, I think I’m gay.”

Haley has rehearsed the line in the mirror at least ten times now, and it hasn’t stopped sounding strange in her mouth. “Or,” she tries instead, “Alex, I think I might be into girls.”

What is she _doing?_ This is ridiculous. This makes no sense. Of all the people in Stardew Valley… her? Haley looks her reflection in the eye, and tells it so. “You’re being stupid. Wanting to be friends with someone doesn’t make you a lesbian. It’s just been a while since you’ve actually tried to make new friends. Of course it’s exciting.” she scolds herself. She almost believes it too. If it weren’t for Abigail’s jacket hanging in her closet, giving her that swooping feeling in the pit of her stomach, almost as if she were going to fall from a very great height, she might have convinced herself. She’d been able to before.

So. What. Even if it’s true, what is she going to do about it? _Nothing,_ says a quiet voice in the back of her mind. _You do nothing. Abigail’s already made it clear that she likes guys... a lot, if her story is anything to go by, and even if she hadn’t you are so far from her type that it doesn’t matter_. _And as for telling Alex…_ Haley sighs. She doesn’t really know where Alex would stand on this. On one hand, she knows he loves her. On the other hand, she knows he loves his cantankerous and old-school grandfather, and she’s pretty sure she knows how _George_ would feel about this whole situation.

And he wouldn’t be the only one, Haley realizes with a sinking feeling. She can’t think of a single person in the valley that she knows is gay. She knows girls from school, of course, who got made fun of for being weird, and guys who got shoved around for being a little fey but. She doesn’t know _a_ nyone who's actually _said_ that they're gay, and given how much she knows about every other residents personal business, whether she wants to or not, that says something.

She might be the only one here.

That thought is almost too much to take. But it makes a horrifying kind of sense. She looked up the statistics, right after she watched the trailer for “Imagine Me and You” on repeat. They’re not comforting.

“Haley! How long are you going to take in there?” complains Emily, banging on the bathroom door. “I’ve got to go to work soon! Get out!” Haley pushes away from the mirror, and unlocks the door. Emily, who looks set to scold her, takes one look at her face and purses her lip.

“Everything ok?” she asks, a little less gently than she might have otherwise. Haley just nods.

“Peachy. Just… stressing about my portfolio Em,” Haley says, showing off her best fake smile. Emily nods sympathetically.

“That’s fair. It’s going to be amazing though Haley—I am so, so proud of you,” she says warmly, before shoving past Haley and locking her out of the bathroom. Haley gives a little gasp of indignation, but it’s too late. She hears the shower turn on, and sighs. She’s all dressed anyway, and she was supposed to meet Alex five minutes ago. She puts on her jacket (her _own_ jacket), and leaves the house to see what Alex’s new, brilliant idea is. She finds him at the ice cream stand, hammering away at it, and Haley has to look at him dubiously.

“Your new, exciting plan is to…. Sell ice cream, but in a season where no one wants it?” she asks. The days haven’t gotten too cold yet, but there’s a definite nip in the air, and the leaves have begun, ever so slowly, to fall. Alex stands up, shirtless and sweaty even in the early fall chill.

“Haley! No, don’t be stupid. I’m selling _cider_ , and cider dougnuts!” he says enthusiastically. Haley blinks, and leans against the side of the stand he’s not working on.

“Ok… that’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” she concedes. “But how are you getting all of this?” Alex grins, and Haley rolls her eyes. _Of course_. She should have known it was the farmer.

“She’s got a bunch of apple trees and it’s too much work for her to deal with all the cider they make. My grammy’s got a recipe for cider donuts she showed me, and they’re actually really good—here, try one,” he says eagerly, shoving a paper bag in her hands. She pulls out a sticky doughnut, and tentatively takes a bite.

“That’s… really good Alex, holy shit,” she says, scarfing down the rest. She leans forward over the counter of the stand and wags her eyebrows at them. “I guess all that _one on one_ time you two have been having really paid off huh.”

Alex flushes a little, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool. I like her a lot,” he admits a little shyly. “I know I’ve been kinda M.I.A. though… what have you been up to?”

Haley laughs at the obvious concern in his wrinkled brow. “I can take care of myself!” she protests. “You’re not the only one who can make new friends. I’ve been working on my portfolio, and I’m gonna play some game with Abigail and Sam and Sebastian this Thursday.”

Alex blinks at her. “That weird nerd game they play?” he asks, a little dubiously. Haley shrugs. She feels a prick of self-consciousness at the back of her neck.

“Yeah. They need a fourth person and I owe her for finding my grandma’s bracelet, so…” she says, hoping she doesn’t sound too defensive. Alex shrugs.

“Your call Hales,” he says, letting it go. “You can’t bitch about her not liking you anymore though.”

 _Little do you know,_ she thinks. _I can bitch all I want._ Alex hammers in his last nail, and steps back to admire his handiwork. The stand is fixed up from the last of the summer storms, and there’s a new sign: “Alex’s Seasonal Snack Shack”

“Impressive,” Haley says, and Alex scoops her up into his arms with a little whoop of success. Haley screeches.

“Alex! You’re so— sweaty, put me down!” she shrieks, but when he does, they’re both laughing. She feels so _silly_ for having ever doubted him.

“Haley—” he starts, and she cuts him off.

“Alex, I’m gay.”

-

-

Alex took it surprisingly well, all things considered. There was some sputtering and confused back and forth, but Haley couldn’t really fault him for that. Looking back at your high school relationship of five years after a confession like that... Haley's not going to shake off the guilt from that one for a while. Alex, though, brought it up only once.

“Is that why you never…” he had asked tentatively, and she squeezed her eyes shut and nodded.

“Oh Haley,” he had said, so softly she wanted to cry. He wasn’t completely settled with it, she could tell. But, as he told her at least five times, she was his best friend, and she’d stuck with him through all the shit in his life—he was never, ever, gonna abandon her.

Now, sitting by the river, Alex flicking pebbles into the gentle burble of its flow, they’re finally quiet. Haley rests her head on his shoulder, and after a moment, he puts his arm around her.

“So, this game night…” he starts, and she groans, and buries her face into his shirt.


	6. Chapter 6

Of course, as soon as Haley has really, fully accepted that she doesn’t hate Abigail, far from it, the next thing that happens is that she’s seeing Abby _everywhere._ At the beach at sunset, by the community garden in the late fall afternoons, and of course, every single goddamn time she goes to Pierre’s.

Haley hates letting Emily go grocery shopping. She’s sure the food her sister buys is supposed to be healthy or something, but it’s always weird and gross and vegan cheese _does not_ taste like cheese no matter what Emily says. But in order for Emily to let her buy the groceries, she has to promise to buy organic, pasture-fed, and pesticide free, which is why she’s in the checkout line of Pierre’s while Caroline tries to make uncomfortable small talk. She can see Abigail out of the corner of her eye, but Haley has nothing if not her pride and she refuses to get caught staring.

So her only option is really Caroline.

“Haley! There you are hon. It’s always good to see you, you look gorgeous as always,” Caroline starts chattering, and Haley nods pleasantly. “I saw you talking to Abby—she could really use your help you know. Don’t you think she’d look so much nicer with her hair her _natural_ color like you have it?” The question is pointed, and louder than necessary, and Haley can’t help but flinch with sympathy.

Abigail’s restocking milk bottles, and she refuses to look at them, her shoulders tense. Haley smiles at Caroline, her most dazzling, white-toothed smile that she keeps in case she needs to get discounts or free drinks.

“Actually, I think it really suits her. In the city, bold colors are all the rage right now—it’s too bad the valley lags so far behind,” she says, in the same sugary sweet tone, and Caroline blinks in confusion.

“Oh… well, that’s, good to know,” she says, a little uncomfortably, and Haley hears Abigail stifle a laugh. She balances her paper bag of groceries on her hip, and makes her way to the door. Abigail catches her by the elbow before she leaves.

“Solarian Chronicles at 8, I’ll see you at Seb’s?” she asks. Her expression is casual, almost bored, but her fingers are hot on Haley’s bare skin and Haley’s heart flutters helplessly when she nods.

-

**-**

“So what’s he paying you for your prints?” Sebastian asks idly, as he flips through the stack of papers on his desk, not looking at her. Haley fidgets in her seat on the broken down old couch in Sebastian’s basement room. It’s a little stuffy and definitely smells like weed, and she’s desperately wondering why on earth she thought coming a little early to ask Sebastian to pose for pictures was a good idea.

“Mayor Lewis? I- I’m not actually sure. I don’t think he mentioned it,” she admits. Sebastian looks up at her from under the fringe of his shaggy hair, and snorts.

“Seriously? You’re gonna fall for that?”

“Excuse me?” Haley asks indignantly. Sebastian shrugs, and walks over to her, dropping the stack of papers on the table with a thud of finality.

“People always try that shit on freelancers like us. They don’t think what we do is real work,” he replies simply. Haley blinks. _Freelancers like us…_ she’d never thought of her photos as actual _work_ , if she was being honest, but… that was the goal, right? “That’s why you gotta set your boundaries upfront, or they’re gonna try and rip you off when you give them the final product,” he continues. He puts two sheets of paper in front of her. “So. I’ll pose for your photos when you put a price on them for Mayor Lewis. These are your character sheets.”

“My what?” she looks at them confused.

“Did you seriously not even look up the game before you came over?” he asks with a sigh of exasperation. Haley shrugs.

“I figured you guys would explain it,” she says, and Sebastian sighs. He slides a book towards her.

“Abigail’s really gone soft on you. Look, this is the guide, and I can explain the basic rules to you before the other two get here…” he starts. Haley listens attentively, determined not to embarrass herself in new territory. She’s so focused on Sebastian’s explanations that she doesn’t hear the basement door click open, until Sam’s cheery voice calls out,

“Haley! You actually came!” Abigail trails in behind him, looking almost as surprised, as if she hadn’t confirmed with Haley just this morning.

“Yeah, duh,” Haley says, and holds up her character sheet. “Sebastian’s been helping me make my sheet. I’m an elven princess named Elandriel.”

“Of course,” Abby laughs, but it’s not entirely mocking. Haley will take that.

It’s hard for her to get into at first. She feels silly and self-conscious trying to talk as her character, and Sam and Abigail move so fast she has a hard time getting a word in edgewise. But after a while, she starts to get into the story. Sebastian’s a surprisingly good narrator, it turns out, and she’s intrigued by the court drama he’s laying out. So intrigued, actually, that she starts to get frustrated with Abigail and Sam’s characters.

“Guys, _why_?” she groans, the third time Sam’s orc bard gets in a fight with a castle guard that Abigail’s mercenary ex-knight has to rescue him from. Haley’s character is intentionally avoiding them, chatting up one of the other knights for information on the Goblin Queen, and she was _so close_ to figuring out what their latest clue meant. “Instead of trying to fight everyone, could you just maybe… talk to them?”

Abigail and Sam exchange a look of confusion and then Abigail says, “Not really,” almost apologetically. Haley sighs, covering her face with her hands in frustration. But through her fingers, she sees Abigail’s little half smile, and she has to admit… she’s kind of having fun.

-

-

“Wait, so he refused to pose for you?” Abby asks. Haley’s a little taken aback by how offended she is on Haley’s behalf, especially when the person being discussed is Sebastian, who Haley is pretty sure is Abigail’s best friend and also probably the brooding, melancholy object of her affections (which is _fine_ , she tells herself). Haley shrugs. They’re walking back from Sebastian’s house, and Haley just meant to update Abigail on her portfolio progress.

“It’s not a big deal Abby. Honestly, he’s kind of right—I’ve been thinking about it like a hobby, not a job. I don’t even know how to be a real freelancer—I’ve got so much to figure out, advertising myself and figuring out fee structures, and _Yoba_ , I’m gonna have to learn how to do taxes aren’t I?” she realizes as she says it. Her stomach drops. She’s never had to worry about money. She’s never had to figure out taxes and bank accounts and she has _no idea_ how to run a business.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Abby interrupts her rapidly spiraling thoughts. “Sebastian can make you a website, obviously not for free but he does friends rates,” she starts. Haley’s pretty sure Sebastian only starting acknowledging her as a person because of Abigail, so she’s not so sure about _friends_ , but she’s not going to bring that up. “And my dad’s been making me keep the shop ledger and do paperwork for ages—your taxes will be a piece of cake.”

Haley blinks up at Abigail.

“Wait, seriously?” she asks, a little dumbfounded. “You know how to do all that? I thought you hated the shop.” Abigail shrugs.

“I do. Doesn’t mean I’m not good at it,” she says. “Might as well use it for someone I actually like.”

“So you do like me!” Haley crows, looping her arm through Abigail’s and firmly ignoring the warmth in her chest. Abigail rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re ok. Don’t get too excited,” she grumbles, but she’s smiling.

-

-

Haley decides to take the Friday before Spirit's Eve off. She's excited for the celebration of course, she's had her costume prepped for _weeks_. But big town festivals always take a toll on her, and if she's going to get through an evening of spiked punch and jump scares from Sam and all the kids, she needs some time to herself first. She’s not quite tired enough to sleep yet, but she’s not in the mood to work on her portfolio or look at internships or anything else that gives her that sense of deep-seated dread in the pit of her stomach. So instead, she’s relaxing in her silky bathrobe, a face mask slathered thick on her face, flipping through a travel magazine for photos to collage into a mood board. The pumpkin spice scented candle she lit is burning low, and she’s just thinking that maybe it’s time to rinse her face off before the mask starts to dry and crack, when she hears a tapping at her window.

When Haley was a little girl, she was terrified that something was going to come through the window of her ground floor bedroom and steal her away. She thought she’d mostly outgrown that fear, but the thumping of her heart proves her wrong. The tapping starts up again, and Haley gathers up a deep breath of courage before she gingerly tiptoes to the window and pulls back the blinds.

Abigail is at her window, and when she sees Haley’s green masked face, she jumps back in alarm. Haley rolls the window up.

“Abby? What the hell? You scared me!” she scolds the girl, only noticing the wet shine on her cheeks after the fact.

“I wasn’t sure if Emily was home and I didn’t wanna wake her up,” Abigail mumbles, looking away. Haley looks her up and down. She’s dirty, although that’s not new, and her hair is tangled. Her cheeks are red, like she was just in the middle of an argument, and her fists are clenched tight and—

“Abigail, is that a _sword?_ ” Haley asks, shocked. Abigail blinks, and then looks at the sword in her hand.

“Um, yeah. God, are you gonna lecture me too—” she starts, sounding less nervous and more annoyed, and Haley cuts her off.

“No, I’m just—what is going on, are you _okay?_ ” she asks. Now that she’s alert again, she’s trying to run through a list of things that might bring Abigail to her window near midnight. None of the scenarios she’d imagined (although, to be fair, they were very _specific_ scenarios) included a _sword._ Abigail just shrugs.

“…yeah. I just, I got in a fight with my dad and I didn’t wanna go to Sebastian’s since Demetrius is still pissed at him and waking up Sam’s family didn’t seem right…” she explains, a little embarrassed. Haley nods.

“Emily’s not even home you goose. Come in through the front door,” she scolds, and Abigail’s shoulder slump gratefully. Haley takes the time to rinse off her face and nearly pulls out her hair with how fast she takes out her curlers, her cheeks burning when she realizes they had that entire conversation in her most unflattering outfit. Abigail’s waiting at the front door, determinedly looking at her feet when Haley finally lets her in.

“Sword and boots at the door,” she reminds Abigail, who in the hallway light is somehow dirtier than she first appeared. Abigail rolls her eyes, but obliges, and doesn’t sit until Haley points out an appropriate chair. Only then does Haley let herself lean in and fuss, looking Abigail over for scratches or injuries. “You look like you got in a fight.” There's a cut over Abigail's eyebrow that's bleeding slightly, and Haley wipes it off with the corner of her bathrobe sleeve, making a mental note to soak it in cold water as soon as she can. Abigail draws back from Haley’s touch as if shocked. Haley jerks back as well, wringing her hands to keep them to herself.

“Not exactly. I was practicing my swordplay in the cemetery, and I ran into the farmer,” she explains begrudgingly. “We were just sparring, but my dad found us and he was _furious_ Haley. I just… need some time for him to cool down.”

Haley sighs and flops back into an armchair. There's a lot to process there, and she wants to ask about it but-- now doesn't seem like the time. “Well, you’re welcome to stay the night. I can give you clothes and shower stuff.” Abigail shakes her head.

“Nah, it’s ok,” she says so quickly that Haley’s feelings are a little hurt, “I just need to give him a couple hours.”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t a fan of sleepovers,” Haley teases a little, to cover up the pang in her chest. “Did you never have one?” Abigail just snorts.

“What do you think?” she asks deadpan. “Besides, I don’t think I’d be much fun at one of your sleepover parties somehow. Not a big “Bachelor and Bordeaux” person.” The annoyance Haley feels is familiar, comforting. Honestly, Abigail is probably doing her a favor when she’s this condescending—it makes it much easier to shove away the thought’s she’d had of Abigail spending the night.

“God you’re so obnoxious,” Haley complains. “I bet you’d secretly _love_ all this stuff, you just don’t want to admit you’ve got something in common with the rest of us.” Abigail just rolls her eyes.

“You know it’s possible to be a girl without being a total stereotype right?” she asks dryly. “Maybe you should switch places with me, I’m sure my parents would _love_ having you as a daughter.” Haley snorts.

“You’re doing a great job selling them, but no thanks.” Abigail’s laugh is soft, almost tinkling, at odds with the gruffness she tries to project, and Haley savors it every time. “And if they don’t appreciate the daughter they have, they’ve got terrible taste,” she adds, a little more gently. It’s a little uncomfortably earnest, but Abigail’s gaze is so grateful, so arrestingly sad, that Haley can’t keep herself from reaching over and lacing her fingers through the other girls to give her hand a squeeze.

She’s not expecting Abigail to hold on, but she’s not complaining either.

“Haley…” Abigail starts, her voice low and uncertain, and suddenly every inch of Haley’s skin feels _alive,_ like all of her nerve endings turned on at once. She leans in, waiting for Abigail to continue and---

Of course, that’s when Emily opens the door, singing slightly off-key to the parrot on her shoulder. She’s got a plastic bag with leftovers from the saloon in one hand, and her other hand is still on the doorknob as she looks with confusion at the tableau in front of her.

Abigail jerks her hand back, and Haley presses herself against the couch as far away as she can without being obvious. “Hey Emily!” she greets her sister with false cheer. “Abigail just stopped by to say hi.”

“At…. 12:30 at night?” Emily asks a little doubtfully. Abigail jumps in.

“I didn’t mean to bother you guys, I just got in a fight with my dad and I was hoping to crash for a couple hours until he goes to bed. I can leave if you want—” she starts, but Emily shakes her head sympathetically.

“Don’t worry about it love. You’re always welcome. Help yourself to leftovers, I’ll light some incense to clear the bad air,” she says. Abigail lets out a huff of relief, and Haley relaxes too.

“I can stay up with you…” she offers tentatively, but Abigail shakes her head.

“Don’t worry about it, go to sleep. I’ll be gone in the morning,” she says. When Haley wakes the next morning, shivering in the cold air coming through her still open window, she wishes Abigail hadn't been telling the truth. 


	7. Chapter 7

Every year, Emily makes her and Haley the _best_ Spirit’s Eve costumes. True to character, Emily’s are absurdist, avant-garde works of art—one especially memorable year, she went as a peacock, with a full train of violet and indigo and teal swishing behind her.

Haley’s costumes tend to lean more on the side of classic cute-and-sexy. After all, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, is what she believes, and she’s usually right (with some exceptions—Maru’s face when Haley dressed up as a nurse was topped only by Harvey’s wandering eye as one of the worst things to happen that year). This year, she’s dressed as a fairy, and she’s fairly certain the tactical application of body glitter and the cling of her white shift dress mean that she’s looking as desirable as she can without pissing off the mothers united of Pelican Town.

 _Not that it matters here_ , she thinks with a sigh. She’s seated at a table with Sam and Jodi and Kent. Emily’s getting her fortune told, which Haley declined on grounds of finding it extremely unsettling, and Alex is taking bets on the skeleton fight, which is just _too grisly_ for her taste. Jodi’s trying to convince Vincent that he’s not old enough for the maze yet, and Sam is wolfing down a caramel apple he bought. When he looks up suddenly, Haley follows his eyes with curiosity—but it’s just Sebastian, in his standard all black, parking his motorcycle. Sam sprints over to him with the enthusiasm of a yellow lab, and Haley deflates even more in his absence.

Maybe she should start on Pam’s spiked punch early this year.

“Dynamic duo ditch you too?” asks a voice from behind her, and Haley’s heart thuds painfully against her ribcage. Abigail’s dressed in armor that actually looks like she might use it—a leather cuirass and sturdy boots, and a familiar sword gleaming in its scabbard at her waist. She _definitely_ needs a drink now.

“Yeah,” Haley sighs. Abigail sits next to her and watches the two boys scuffle in the long shadows by the edge of the festival.

“Typical. See what I mean about sharing? No one can put up with that level of third-wheeling forever,” she remarks. Abigail has a half-empty pumpkin ale in her hand, and there’s a flush in her cheeks and a gleam in her eyes that says it isn’t her first.

“Excuse me?” Haley asks, taken aback by the implication, glancing at Jodi and Kent and hoping they didn’t overhear. Thankfully, they seem absorbed by Vincent’s hysterics. Abigail narrows her eyes.

“You have a problem with that?” she asks suspiciously, her shoulders squaring, and Haley nearly falls out of her seat with the intensity of her denial.

“Absolutely not!” she says hurriedly, embarrassed and grateful for the hand that Abigail offers her to keep her balanced. “Just surprised. I didn’t think anyone here was…” she trails off, and flushes a little. _Like me._ Abigail shrugs.

“People just play their cards close. Pelican Town is too small to let gossip travel,” she says. That Haley can agree with. She gazes at Abigail, trying to read something, anything in her green eyes, but Abigail is cool and impassive, and she feels her face getting hot again.

“You brought your sword,” Haley says, changing the topic, and Abigail grins.

“Hell yeah I did. The spiders aren’t gonna keep me from getting through the maze this year,” she says triumphantly. Haley shivers. She’s never made it through the maze, and she’s just about given up on trying.

“Isn’t that dangerous though?” she asks, worried. It’s not that she doesn’t think Abigail’s strong, she _knows_ she is, it’s just… the wizard wasn’t playing around when he made the maze and let those enchanted creatures loose.

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll be safe,” Abigail says, mischief in her eyes, “I’ve been practicing in the caves. Scared the shit out of me at first, but I think I’ve got the hang of it now.” She nods begrudgingly at the farmer. “With some help.”

The farmer is at Pierre’s shop stand, picking up yet another novelty scarecrow. _So tacky_ , Haley thinks with distaste, but she can’t really criticize the newest addition to their town, not when she’s done so much for all of them.

Not if she’s helping keep Abby safe.

Haley watches the farmer and Pierre haggle. His wife isn’t by him. She looks around and sees Caroline in quiet conversation with the Wizard, of all people. Pierre, alone at his shop stand after the sale is over, watches them with an expression somewhere between suspicion and sadness.

“Your dad never stops working,” Haley observes. Abigail scowls.

“Yeah, it drives my mom nuts. And then she drives me nuts,” she complains.

“She must be lonely,” Haley says, without thinking, and Abigail follows her gaze to where her mother stands, alone now where the wizard left her. She’s quiet for a moment, and then replies,

“She is.” 

-

-

Abigail finally convinces Haley to give the maze one more shot. Haley refrains from telling her that she’s never actually made it past the entrance. Her fear feels childish, but that doesn’t stop it from filling her the deeper they get into the shadowy hedges.

“This way,” Abigail says, and then she crawls _into_ the hedge wall.

“Excuse me?” Haley asks shrilly, but when she looks closer, she sees the thinnest crack that Abigail has slipped herself through.

“It’s a false hedge. Come on! Before the farmer finds us!” Abigail urges, reaching out her hand. Haley takes it, groaning internally as she feels the twigs catch on her dress and in her hair, and she stumbles out the other side, nearly falling into Abby’s arms. Abigail’s hand is firm around hers, and she stabilizes Haley with her other arm. “You’ve got a leaf in your hair,” she murmurs. Her fingers card through Haley’s hair as gentle as the late autumn wind. In the dark, cool night, moonlight filtering through the brush, she looks ethereal, otherworldly. Haley’s breath catches in her chest. “Got it.” And then Abigail is pulling away, tossing the offending leaf to the ground, ready to charge ever onwards.

Haley feels where Abigail’s fingers wrapped around her waist like a brand, and thinks, not for the first time, that she must be a fool for following her in here.

They don’t make it to the golden pumpkin. Abigail probably would have, if it wasn’t for Haley, but when they turn the corner to see a mummy shambling towards them, Haley lets out a little scream and scrambles back. Abigail laughs, and she doesn’t look back into the maze when she leads Haley out, and for that, Haley is grateful.

-

-

Haley _hates_ winter. She hates the cold and the dead tree branches that do nothing to block out the sharp rays of sunlight. She hates the puddles of water that her boots leave at the door when she comes inside, the dreary gray light of morning, and the early creep of night. Everything is sow and sleepy and there’s nothing to do but read and online shop, and somehow shopping just isn’t as fun as it used to be.

“What is _happening_ to me?” Haley groans into her hands. She’s in the library for what’s probably the first time in years, looking for a new book or _something_ to keep her occupied. She can hear the chatter of Jas and Vincent from the other side of the shelf, and a swell of sympathy for Penny rises in her.

It’s easy to forget that Penny and her are close to the same age, sometimes. The redheaded girl, quiet and timid as she seems, has always seemed so calm and capable, even when handling the barely contained chaos of Pelican Town’s bored children. For the first time, Haley wonders if Penny has any free time. If she does, what does she do with it?

“My math book cover is falling off!” she hears Jas whine at an earsplitting pitch, and she winces.

“I know Jas, here, give it to me and I’ll try and tape it up. We have to make do, new books are expensive,” Penny says consolingly. Haley feels a hot flush of shame, thinking of her shelf of books, read once and then ignored in favor of something new and different in the library.

She has a hard time reading after that. Instead, she finds herself clicking through fundraising ideas, listening with one ear for a break in Penny’s classes. When she hears the scraping of chairs, she rises as well, and follows Penny and the kids outside. Jas and Vincent immediately sprint out to the front yard of the library, full of frustrated childish glee. Penny, wrapped in an old, patched coat, stays under the awning of the library porch, watching them. She seems surprised when Haley comes to stand next to her.

“Hey Haley,” Penny greets her warily. “What brings you here?”

“I was looking for a new book to read,” Haley says casually, flicking a golden curl over her shoulder. “But the library seems in short supply.”

Penny nods sadly. “It’s been a while since Gunther’s gotten new books. At least the donations from the farmer have been keeping the museum side alive, and she’s even managed to find some lost books too.”

“Donations, huh,” Haley says musingly. At Penny’s quizzical expression, she smiles. “Penny, do you like cake?”

Penny, it turns out, loves cake, and muffins, and most baked goods actually. When Haley explains her idea, Penny warms to it so quickly it almost startles Haley.

“A bake sale fundraiser? That could be nice. People come to Pelican Town from all over the valley for our fairs and food,” she says enthusiastically. It isn’t till Haley sees Penny hopeful that she realizes how resigned the girl must usually be, and it breaks her heart a little, even as she nods emphatically.

“Exactly. It would be easy to get townspeople to donate baked goods—that’s all anyone does here in the winter! And the funds would all go to books for the school,” she says, and then adds more sheepishly, “I also have some books and clothes and shoes that I could probably donate… I’m running out of closet space.” Haley recognizes the envy in Penny’s eyes, and for the first time since high school, it actually makes her feel worse.

“I don’t know Haley, that seems like a lot,” she says uncertainly.

“How else can I buy new things?” Haley asks airily, and doesn’t look at Penny’s face when she says it.

-

-

Alex, her most reliable partner in crime, is predictably enthusiastic.

“I can ask Grammy for recipes,” he says cheerfully. “She _loves_ this kind of thing, and the farmer’s got so much flour and sugar in storage, and that’s not even starting on her _hens._ ” They’re in Alex’s room. Haley, sick of stepping over his discarded clothing every time she visits, is seated on his bed, instructing him as he cleans, sorting through the boxes he tossed next to her on the bed.

“That would be great!” Haley says gratefully. Then she sighs. “I feel awful Alex. You know how much stuff is sitting around in that big house that me and Emily never use? But I don’t want to embarrass Penny and Pam… you know how proud Pam is.” Alex nods shrugs.

“I don’t know Hales,” he says doubtfully, “I kinda get it. No one really likes to be pitied.” He doesn’t look at her when he says it, but she knows exactly what she means. Alex is so good at hiding his sadness that even she sometimes forgets that it’s there. Haley blows out a long breath of frustration, and dumps out another box onto the bed.

She is not expecting the rubber dildo that drops out of it.

“Oh FUCK,” Alex yelps. He scrambles with all the speed of a high school athlete, and just about throws himself onto the offending pile. “Fuck… just, ignore that?” he asks Haley pleadingly.

“Um. No?” Haley responds, her brain taking a moment to catch up with the surroundings. “Alex is that…” she doesn’t finish. She doesn’t need to, based on how bright red Alex’s cheeks are.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he starts defensively, which only makes Haley raise her eyebrows higher. “It’s the farmer’s, I swear! Look, after you came out to me I just had… questions, ok? I didn’t mention your name, I promise, it’s just she’s the only other person I know who’s gay, or I guess bi actually.” He shrugs self-consciously.

“And she somehow convinced you to try it too?” Haley asks blankly. She’s pretty sure Alex is interested in girls, if their entire friendship and four to five years of dating is anything to go off of.

“Uh, not exactly,” he admits. They’re both quiet for a second, and then he starts hesitantly, “Haley… you remember how mad I was when Sam quit gridball? I didn’t really get why at the time but…” It takes everything in Haley not to screech in surprise at his explanation, and then she has to process the realization that _, oh yeah,_ you can be interested in boys and girls and anyone else and any combination of the above, and that’s not something she wants to dig into the implications of quite yet. And then she remembers Abigail’s offhand comment.

“Oh my god Alex. Wait, let me tell you something about Sam,” she says excitedly. It isn’t till after 30 minutes of gossiping that she remembers to feel guilty and promises him to secrecy. They’re both lying on Alex’s bed at that point, staring at the ceiling.

“What are the chances, huh?” he asks softly, and Haley just hums in agreement.

-

It takes a while for the excitement of _that_ discovery to calm down, but once it does, Alex and Haley are back to planning the bake sale. Evelyn, always the first to volunteer for any decent cause, decides she’s donating cookies, and she’ll speak to others in town about rousing up more offerings. She even suggests that instead of donating her clothes, Haley could organize a swap instead.

“After all,” Evelyn says warmly, in her wavering voice, “ Most everyone feels better when they feel like they’re contributing.”

It’s certainly true for Haley, at least. The potential of a project breathes new life into the dreary winter. All of a sudden, she’s a whirlwind about town, rosy-cheeked and bright eyed.

“Think about it Penny! We could make it a party, oh we haven’t had a party here in ages,” Haley babbles on. Penny has one arm looped through hers, and their breath makes soft clouds in the air. “It could be a real girls night.”

“I don’t remember when the last time I went to one of those was,” Penny admits shyly. Another pang of guilt echoes through Haley. “Do you think… who would you invite? Could Maru come? I know she’s younger than us, but…” Haley thinks about that. She remembers her birthday bashes and afterparties in high school, and she doesn’t need to recount the faces to know that no one she used to invite is still in town. It doesn’t make her as sad as she would have expected.

“Of course she can,” she says firmly. “I think we could all use a girl’s night in.”

-

-

“A girl’s night?” Abigail asks, doubtfully. She’s hiding behind a picnic table with Haley, out of the line of fire of the snowball fight currently happening behind them. “Seriously?”

“It’s for _charity_ Abigail don’t be a scrooge,” Haley scolds her. They’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, so close that Haley can see the snowflakes on Abigail’s eyelashes. It’s very distracting. “It’s the season of giving, you have to come.”

“Didn’t think you were so charitable,” Abigail says dryly. Whatever look Haley gives her must be pathetic, because she sighs resignedly. “Oh don’t pout, I’ll come ok.” Haley manages to restrain her little cheer, but she can’t help but shriek when a snowball hits her cheek out of left field.

“Hey,” Abigail shouts at Sam, who’s snickering from behind his snow fort. “She’s not playing asshole!”

“Language, Abby!” her mother admonishes, and Abigail rolls her eyes. Before she can get in another public argument with Caroline though, Haley stands up and pulls Abby to her feet.

“It’s my fault, I knew I shouldn’t have gone outside,” she says, chagrined, shivering as the melting snow drips down her collar. “Winter’s the worst.” Abby, who’s been rolling a snowball between her hands, doesn’t respond immediately. She targets someone over Haley’s shoulder, and Sam’s yelp of surprise tells Haley that Abby hit her mark.

“Winter’s not so bad,” she argues, turning back to Haley. “It’s just nicer without so many people.” Haley, who’s feeling snowmelt soaking into the sweater under her down jacket, looks at her doubtfully, but Abby just rolls her eyes and steers her away from the fray. “Look, I’ll show you.”

Haley’s not really sure where they’re going, and Abby doesn’t explain, too busy shielding them from incoming snowballs. When they’re clear of the field, she leads Haley into the untrimmed woods that border that festival.

“Where are we going Abby?” Haley asks nervously. “It’s getting kind of late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Abigail says from up ahead. The waves of her purple hair strand out brilliant against the white and gray and brown of the winter forest, a beacon of color in the gray day. “You’ll love it, I promise. This is the best time.”

Haley sighs, and trudges after her, groaning in disappointment when she steps into a snowdrift and gets snow in her boots. _This better be worth it_ , she thinks, as she hauls herself over the half rotten trunk of a fallen tree and through a tangle of dead brush. When they reach the other side though, what Haley sees takes her breath away.

The trees are packed tighter here, so tight the new snow barely touched the ground. The late afternoon sun glints off of icicles hanging like chandeliers from branches of ancient, twisting trees, and the refracted light dapples them both in a way that’s almost alien.

“ _Yoba_ …” Haley breathes. “Abigail, what _is_ this?” she asks.

Abigail turns to face her, triumph sparkling in her eyes. “The Deep Woods. I found it exploring earlier today, cleared the slimes out so it’s safe for now.” At the mention of slimes, Haley presses herself against Abigail’s side involuntarily, blushing when Abigail laughs. She has a hard time keeping her guard up though, when Abigail leads her through the little alcove she’s found. There’s a small pond, frozen half solid, and Haley can see the vague shapes of fish swimming beneath the ice. Worn stone statues cast long shadows, wearing hats of snow that jar with the otherwise solemn scene. The entire place is quiet, serene, almost mystical.

“I wish I’d brought my camera,” Haley says mournfully, taking in the sight. Abigail slings an arm around her shoulder comfortingly.

“We’ll be back,” she promises, and then grins. “I guess winter’s not so bad after all, huh?”

-

-

The rest of winter passes in a blur. They plan the bake sale for the day of the feast of the Evening Star, to maximize the amount of people coming. It’s a rousing success. They’ve commandeered Pierre’s usual festival shop stand, which he’s sulking about at one of the tables, and the spread of pastries is frankly astounding. It’s even more amazing how quickly they’ve almost completely sold out, and Haley suspects that more than a couple people forgot about their holiday gift list. She has her gift for Gus wrapped up and tucked under her arm. She had to ask Emily for ideas, but in the end she settled on a bottle of fancy truffle oil from the farmer’s estate. She still doesn’t fully understand why the farmer gave her that look of suspicion when she bought it, but she’s not sure she wants to ask.

“Are you finally done? The line was so long I thought you were running a fucking kissing booth,” Abigail says, jarring Haley out of her thoughts on what could possibly be so wrong about truffle oil. She’s leaning against the booth, and the toothpick in her mouth tells Haley she’s already helped herself to the free samples.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Haley chirps cheerfully, “Might even beat this year’s numbers. Anything for charity, right?” Abigail narrows her eyes at her but doesn’t respond, and if Haley were more optimistic, she might have thought the red on her cheeks was from embarrassment instead of the wind. Instead, Abigail drops a gift basket on the stand counter in front of her.

“Open it,” she says gruffly, averting her eyes. _Oh._ Haley hadn’t really expected Abigail to be her secret gift-giver, but it brings a warmth to her that she can’t deny. She unwraps it carefully, and squeals with delight at what she finds inside—a peppermint coffee make-at-home kit from her favorite coffee shop in Zuzu City.

“This stuff is my favorite! How did you know? Did you get this from the city?” she asks, and Abigail shrugs.

“I mean, you’ve only brought it up like twenty times. And yeah, me and Sebastian were there anyway for a show,” she says casually, but there’s an awkward tension to her shoulders. After a pause, she adds “He was actually supposed to be your gift-giver but… what the fuck does he know anyway? I made him swap, didn’t want him getting the credit for a gift I picked out. Don’t tell Mayor Lewis.”

Haley has to get on her tiptoes to reach over the counter and wrap her arms around Abigail, but the other girl's yelp of surprise is absolutely worth it. 


End file.
